


Mirror

by mentosmorii



Category: Skulduggery Pleasant - Derek Landy
Genre: F/F
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-12-10
Updated: 2019-12-10
Packaged: 2021-02-26 05:40:12
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,552
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21738478
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/mentosmorii/pseuds/mentosmorii
Summary: China reflects on past love, and hell hath no fury like a woman scorned.
Relationships: Eliza Scorn/China Sorrows
Kudos: 7
Collections: Skulduggery Pleasant Fic Exchange 2019





	Mirror

**Author's Note:**

  * For [ChinaSorrows](https://archiveofourown.org/users/ChinaSorrows/gifts).



CHORUS:

"You’re mad–godstruck, godswept, godnonsensical, and you keep making that sound, it’s not musical.

Like the nightingale who wails her lost child, you’re inexhaustibly wild.

Sorrow this, sorrow that, sorrow this, sorrow that."

  * _An Oresteia_ by Anne Carson



* * *

At the root of all greed is love. Perhaps not a good or a kind love, but love is always there. Love is always there in the beginning, even if it’s not by the end.

Even the anatomy of our language betrays this truth. After all, the word “covet” is based on the Latin word _cupiditas_. “To covet” is a kind of yearning to possess or to have — it’s one of many kinds of greed. Yet within it, hidden in the roots of its family tree, is cupid. 

The problem with Sorrows and Scorn was that neither woman really knew how to be loved without first owning. 

* * *

China Sorrow’s library was a castle of her own making, and in it, she was the uncontested king. Information was her currency, and in that fashion, she was rich enough to buy the entire world many times over. All it took was the quirk of a smile or the cocking of her head and whatever bargaining and bartering people had fancied engaging in became secondary. She wasn’t something that you could steel yourself against, and she always stole away with what she wanted from the people who came into her dominion. China was an emancipated Helen of Troy, and her beauty was a weapon used only on her terms. She owned her magic, she owned her winsomeness, and she owned that which caught her eye.

She was a woman with centuries under her belt, and there was nothing in her life she did not own.

China Sorrow was proud to be standing in the 21st century with all the cards in her hand.

* * *

When she’d first summoned her reflection, China Sorrows had been a young girl. The thing that had stepped out of the mirror had been a perfect double, and China had stared back at it curiously. Her tutors had clapped her on the back approvingly, remarking on the incredible neatness of her runes that marred the surface of the full-length mirror China had received for her birthday. As usual, China had noted, all attention was on her.

Standing still and silent, China’s reflection had made eye contact with her.

Jutting her chin out in the way her mother hated, China had met its gaze, unflinching.

China had been the only one to stare at her reflection.

It was identical to her in every possible facet. The same hair. The same aristocratic posture. The same piercing blue eyes.

The only thing it had lacked was her magic — the spark within China that made it impossible for others to look away.

Once she’d received her tutors’ approval, China had waved the double away, equal parts disappointed and irate.

* * *

Eliza Scorn had been her playmate as a child.

Scorn was from a slightly less well-regarded family, which was important in the context of her and China’s arrangement.

Some magic is innate. Although many are born with the ability to explore their strengths and weaknesses before they are compelled to commit to a discipline at the advent of adulthood, there are some who are born with the magic they are destined for already pumping through their veins.

China was one of these few. From the moment she’d been born, her parents had been stricken by how easy it was to raise her. So many parents complained of moments in which their child’s colic and crying had led to nights in which they wondered if their love for their baby was greater than their frustration with the difficulty of parenthood, but such was not the case for China. It had been easy to love her. It didn’t matter when China was sick over her mother’s favorite dress, or when China’s blubbering during meetings forced her father to abandon his colleagues to tend to her in the nursery. All they had for her were smiles.

It seemed as though all everyone had for her were smiles.

No matter what China would do, the only emotion people could muster up against her was love.

It didn’t take long for her family to realize this wasn’t due to the gentleness of her nature. If anything, China had been born with a certain sharpness about her — she knew she was loved, and she didn’t see why she shouldn’t use that love to her advantage. China Sorrows was imbued with magic that made people see a warmth and beauty that she actually was a bit lacking in, and her parents worried that until China was old enough to marry a man with the means of ensuring her protection, their daughter was in danger of being stolen away by one of her countless admirers.

Hence, Eliza.

The idea was that if China was constantly accompanied by a companion, it would be easier to keep track of her. In return for using their daughter as a shield, Eliza’s parents received the prestige that came with proximity to China’s family. Even if they were risking their daughter somewhat, Eliza’s parents told themselves that the arrangement would lead to Eliza having more opportunities as an adult in the world they’d gotten themselves caught up in.

(Although the Faceless Ones were chaos incarnate, the lives of their followers were tangled up in endless, seemingly immutable hierarchies.)

Eliza’s parents loved her just as much as China’s parents loved their girl, and so they sent Eliza into the wolves’ den.

* * *

China watched coolly as the red-haired girl in front of her curtsied. She’d been told by her mother and father that they’d found a new friend for her. At this point, all China felt about the matter was bored curiosity. Eliza was to be the latest in a long list of girls that China had driven away, and there was nothing to indicate that Eliza would be the last.

China’s mother squeezed her cheek affectionately and moved to speak with Eliza’s mother. China watched as the women chatted amicably, their arms linked as they strolled leisurely towards chaise longue.

China’s gaze settled on Eliza, face stony.

Eliza sneered back at her, the expression causing her face to scrunch up unattractively.

Sharply inhaling, China’s eyes widened.

China’s mother whirled around, concerned. Just like that, however, Eliza’s mien softened into timidity. With nothing to indicate anything amiss, China’s mother gave the girls a small, reassuring smile and went back to her conversation.

As soon as the watchful gaze of the adults was gone, Eliza’s brow furrowed once more, her mouth set into a thin, dissatisfied line. China blinked owlishly, her previous apathy shaken.

She felt a fluttering sensation curl itself around her insides, warm and heavy like a sleeping dragon.

Her grip curled around the lace trimmings of her dress.

* * *

It took about a month for China to decide that Eliza's seeming immunity to China's magic was due to the other girl's harsh personality. For a preteen, Eliza harbored a startling amount of hatred at the world inside of her tiny heart. She fascinated China — Eliza was angry at the world for not giving her her due, she was angry at her parents for sending her to live with China, and she was _particularly_ angry with China for being born into a lot in life that she felt China did not deserve. And it wasn’t as though Eliza came from a difficult background, either. Eliza’s family was wealthy enough, and a bit of discrete prodding at various connections that China’s family had had produced the unsurprising fact that Eliza had been well cared for as a child. However, where Eliza saw difference in circumstance that did not favor her, she grew resentful. Such was the case with her and China — she only saw that difference.

China didn’t mind this — if anything, it made Eliza more fun. It had been ages since China had a playmate that didn’t immediately differ to her whims.

* * *

The years passed, and Eliza and China grew into themselves. Eliza never lost her edge, but she did seem to eventually soften to China. Even if their uneasy bond grew out of proximity, it still delighted China nonetheless when Eliza would lean closer during one of their daily lessons and whisper something downright wicked about one of the professors. In turn, Eliza seemed to be surprised by how much she enjoyed it when China would bring her along when sneaking off to the parts of the family library from which the children were meant to be banned. It was a pas de deux, a friendship not so much of mutual trust but of mutual troublemaking.

Another curious element to their alliance (as again, it wasn't exactly a friendship) was that Eliza never seemed to look at China with that pathetic, helpless fondness that China had come to loathe over the years.

When China had tried to nonchalantly bring this up, Eliza had immediately turned pale. Sensing a secret, China had pressed the matter, telling Eliza that she would tell her mother that the other girl had been throwing wistful glances at Bliss. Which wasn’t true, Eliza had pointed out. China had grinned, leaning in as if to share a secret of her own. _It doesn't have to be true_ , China had said conspiratorially. _I just have to be the one to say it._

Eliza had looked remarkably irritated.

China had waited, and after a moment, Eliza had relented.

Eliza had kneeled, and China had joined her on the ground, curious to see what the other girl was doing. Eliza had gestured to her right ankle, and for the first time, China caught a glimpse of a strange, curling rune.

“My mother had me get it before I came to live here,” Eliza had explained. “It’s meant to protect me from your magic.”

China had felt an odd feeling in the pit of her stomach. “Oh,” she’d noted, trying to keep her voice level. “I must admit I’m not yet that familiar with runes. I didn’t — I didn’t know you could get ones that kept you from fancying people.”

Eliza had snickered. “It’s a rune against _your_ magic, China. It doesn’t mean I’ll never fall in love.”

A weight had lifted somewhat, but China refused to let it show. “It would make sense, though,” she’d remarked, rising to her feet and offering Eliza a hand to help her stand. “You’re so rotten, I wouldn’t have been surprised if your rune was designed to make you hate everyone for the rest of your days.”

Eliza had refused the help up, and the affection in China's heart grew.

* * *

More years passed, and China was finally a young woman.

She was also sitting in the dark, curled up on the floor of her room’s closet with Eliza, sobbing her eyes out.

Eliza said nothing, and the dry rustle of her dress’ fabric was the only sound in the closet as she moved to sit next to China. Gingerly, Eliza linked their fingers together. China practically deflated, the aggression seeping out of her bones and leaving her with only exhaustion. Scooting closer, Eliza pointedly remained quiet, and China rested her head against her friend’s shoulder.

A moment passed.

“Mother says I’m to be married by the Summer Solstice,” China said, brusquely wiping at her eyes. “She says that a wedding at that time of the year will be ‘fortuitous’”.

China choked out a laugh.

“Oh, ‘Liza,” she breathed out. “I don’t want — I don’t want to go.”

Eliza disentangled their hands from one another, electing instead to wrap her arms around China. Although Eliza was smaller in stature than China, in the dark it felt like she was as big and strong as any mountain.

“How am I supposed to just leave?” China tried. “I’ve never — I’ll be so far away from everyone.”

“You mightn’t need move far away,” Eliza finally said, voice soft. “He could be from one of the families near Ireland.”

“Even just a few towns over would be too much,” China argued, and Eliza laughed softly.

“That’s not true.”

“It is,” China said stubbornly. “It is, and don’t you dare tell me how I should feel.”

“I thought you always wanted to travel? To see the world?”

“With some man I’ve never met, and without the assurance I am in control of my return?” China snorted derisively. “Hardly.”

Eliza sighed, carding her fingers through China’s hair idly. “You had to have known this was coming.”

“You’re no help at all,” China said thickly, her hold on Eliza tightening.

They sat there in the dark, not moving.

“Would it make you feel better if we were to exchange empty promises? I could tell you that when I’m married, perhaps together with our husbands we could winter in Rome,” Eliza suggested, and China made a face.

“I’d prefer southern France.”

Eliza frowned. “I don’t speak French.”

“You wouldn’t have to,” China insisted, turning her head into the crook of Eliza’s neck. “I do.”

“What mark did your tutor give you for French?” Eliza prodded, tucking a stray strand of hair behind China’s ear. “I feel certain you’d get us both in trouble over in Paris.”

China let out a barking laugh, curling up closer against the other woman. “I would keep you safe.”

“I don’t quite believe that,” Eliza hummed, but her tone wasn’t cruel.

“Eliza?”

“Hm?”

China looked up. “If you tell my brother about this, I’ll kill you. But—”

"I won’t.”

“Eliza…I’ll miss him.”

Eliza simply nodded.

They remained there, in the quiet darkness, until China’s mother came knocking for dinner.

* * *

The night when China’s husband-to-be was to come for their first meeting came all too soon. Vaguely, China remembered that he was from down south on the island — not that that was much of a comfort, in the end. Regardless of how gentle his heart may be, she doubted he’d enjoy traveling back up to China’s family manor for frequent visits. Her home would all too soon be closed off to her, and China was furious at the lack of options she had available to her.

Furthermore, Eliza was nowhere to be seen. After that the night when China had let her guard slip, allowing herself to cling to the other woman without reservation, China had been achingly worried about how awkward things would be. However, it had turned out she had nothing to worry about, as Eliza had made herself scarce since that night. Outside of glimpsing Eliza walking through the garden with one of the tutors, China had not seen Eliza step one foot outside of her chambers.

This also made China furious.

For her to have openly shown such weakness, only to then be treated as though nothing had happened was _mortifying_. Had China not had other things to worry about, she doubtlessly would have blown up at Eliza. For the first time in a long time, China felt as though the world was moving by without her, and it seemed everywhere she turned, there was something else that was slipping away from her — Her family. Her freedom. Eliza…

China scowled, ignoring her mother’s sympathetic look.

“Domnall is a lovely boy,” her mother said, taking a sip of her tea.

China refused to respond. Her mother was liable to take even small talk as a sign that all was forgiven.

The wait for his family to arrive passed by with her mother’s uncomfortable idle chatter, and China’s heart skipped a beat at any sound of footsteps approaching down the long, mahogany floored hall that led to the sitting room.

A sharp rap sounded against the ornate door of the room.

China jutted out her chin, steeling herself.

Her mother waved a hand, and the door slowly swung open, revealing China’s husband to be.

China’s shrewd eyes watched him, calculating.

He was… plain, she decided. Despite his high birth, he dressed plain, too — his clothes were formal without being ostentatious, which, in a way, made him stick out more. He had an easy smile, and there was the ghost of laugh lines forming along his face despite his young age.

China watched him, but he didn’t even glance at her.

Domnall’s eyes had not left Eliza, who had apparently walked him in, since he’d arrived.

China swallowed, resisting the urge to drum her fingers against the table with the energy bubbling upside her.

“Domnall,” she commented. “How wonderful it is to finally meet.”

He blinked in surprise, and finally noticing China, flushed crimson at having so pointedly ignored the woman to whom he was to be engaged.

“C-China,” he started, rubbing a hand against his neck sheepishly. “I was— your friend… Eliza, was it? Well, the matter is that she was kind enough to show me the way here, what with the layout of your estate being so winding and whatnot. It’s a pleasure, China. I am so glad to spend some time together before… before we’re to be married.”

He was babbling, China noted coolly.

To her right, her mother looked just about ready to blow her lid. Here was the man to whom China would soon be married, and he’d seemed to barely acknowledge her. It was shameful, and, more importantly, it simply wasn’t _expected_ — he was engaged to China, for the Faceless Ones’ sakes.

It was only her upbringing that kept China from making a face.

Standing to the side, almost forgotten in all the commotion, Eliza smiled.

China met her eyes.

Eliza looked the same as she ever had — pretty red curls done up, her powder blue dress neatly pressed, and her posture regal. She looked the same as she had the night she’d found China in the closet.

Yet she felt _off_.

Slowly, China glanced at the mirror hung on the wall.

Both her and Eliza’s reflections were suspended in it.

Pretty.

But _just_ pretty.

Eyes flicking back to Eliza, China felt her pulse quicken.

It was just like her tutor had told her after she’d summoned her reflection for the first time.

_It can only wear you,_ he’d explained. _Not your magic._

Standing before her, Eliza discretely pulled at one of the pleats of her dress to reveal her ankle. On the space right above her left foot, Eliza’s skin was marked with a fresh tattoo of a rune.

China’s gaze slowly made its way to Eliza’s face.

It was like looking in a mirror and seeing one’s own face appear somehow completely different.

Or maybe not quite. Eliza’s… spark was similar to China’s even if it was a bit dimmer.

But even so, for the first time, all the eyes on the room weren’t on China.

They were on Eliza.

* * *

Mother had obviously canceled the engagement. She’d been livid that Domnall had acted so disrespectfully, and China almost felt pity for the young man’s family. This debacle would certainly have social implications for them once word got out that he’d brushed off _China Sorrows_. Although perhaps the gall of it all would give Domnall repute, China mused. He was the first to not take a shine to the infamous Sorrows girl, and that would surely count for something.

Although it was possible nothing would come of his failed engagement to China, China eventually decided. There were more pressing matters. Bliss was convinced something _big_ was on the horizon.

War.

He’d pulled her aside after dinner a fortnight ago and told her of all this in frantic whispers. She’d been perturbed — he’d never shown so much emotion in her presence before. She’d attempted to calm him down, but he insisted that change was coming and that she needed to be ready. The following morning, he’d told their mother and father that a friend required his help on business and that he was leaving for England for an undetermined period of time. Their parents had protested, but he’d apparently already made the travel arrangements, and there was nothing they could do but wave him goodbye when his carriage came at noon.

The business excuse had been complete bullshit, China thought derisively. The fact her parents hadn’t pressed was a miracle. They might have known that he was stringing them along, though, and had just not wanted to end things on a sour note. Whether Bliss was gone on business or on secret matters, one thing was certain: he was gone for good.

China rolled over in her bed restlessly, banishing the thoughts of her brother. Bliss knew how to take care of himself, for better or for worse. She needn’t worry about him.

Beside her, Eliza stirred.

In the dim light, her lover’s hair spilled over the cream-colored pillows like red ink. China tucked a strand of hair away from Eliza’s face, briefly indulging herself in a game of trying to find the shape of letters in the twisting locks that painted the bed.

China pretended that she could make out the word _mine_.

* * *

China Sorrow was proud to be standing in the 21st century with all the cards in her hand, alone and unchallenged.

A woman with a kingdom of knowledge and a magic that bound people to her effortlessly.

She wondered if that description fit Eliza or her better.

**Author's Note:**

> AN: im a sucker for #literary foils and sorrowscorn has that in SPADES. You’re telling me they both have magic that makes people fall in love with them and a desire to blackmail the world to hell and back? 11/10. Also instead of relying on Landy’s “they’re women and they’re rivals and by god they’re both so beautiful and they hate each other so much” what IF… eliza is so similar to china because once, she loved her, and to love her, she softened the load that China carried w/ having a magic that makes it so she’ll never be able to tell if someone truly loves her or not. Also writing this made me realize I miss bliss  in this fic we’ll just pretend he didn’t get merked like a second into the series. 
> 
> Also I hope this turned out okay for the fic exchange!


End file.
